NationStates Jolt Archive

When you wish upon a falling star, your dreams can come true. Unless it's really a meteorite hurtling to the Earth which will destroy all life. Then you're pretty much hosed no matter what you wish for. Unless it's death by meteor.

- Sir Reginald Hire of the Duchy of Roska (1851)

There are just sometimes where something massive must occur. Sometimes that something massive might literally be... something massive. You know folks, the Island of Rose had a nice run. It defeated folk, made people laugh and well... it was a nice place. But sometimes, a little cleansing is good. And by a little I mean a lot. Let's face it, TIOR is a dinosaur and change isn't entirely a bad thing.

Unless it's a bad change, like losing your hand, I mean that's kind screwed up.

But that's besides the point. So folks, get your candles ready and prepare to hold a vigel... don't look at me like that.

Rose City, The Island of Rose

It was a normal day. Music filled up the atmosphere, cars went up and down the streets, random human beings going on with their lives. Nothing special, until...

"Egad!"

Now you see, there happened to a very large hill that for some reason just happened to have a giant Observatory. And ye see, that just happened to come in use for lo, Professor Robert von Manpantsvingstanlishabootz XII spotted a very large object... of doom. Okay I know how I say of doom alot but, this really was doomish in its ways.

"AAAH!!!" The Professor shouted. "I must tell folks! And things!"

As such the Proffessor ran out of the large Observatory place thing, running out with a large picture in hand, yelling nonsensical things and whatnot. Finally, he stopped in the middle of Rose Plaza where a giant statue of a random historical figure stood, he calmed down. "Meteor!!!"

The crowd stopped. For an entire minute the citizens pondered the consequences of this, finally, a voice.

"OOH NIGGA WE'S GONNA DIE."

The crowd let out a collective yell and quite frankly, began to riot. Random molotave (or however you spell it) began to be thrown around, cars were flipped, and a guy peed on the wall. Indeed, it was chaos. It was all smelly too, have you ever smelled urine?

Presidential Villa, Rose City

Sergei Ilyanov really kept busy these past few years. As Foreign Minister his job was easy, due to the whole "isolation" thing. He spent his time romancing the wife, filing paperwork, and other normal things. But after he heard about what happened, he decided to rush into the Presidential Office.

"Mr. President!" He shouted as he opened the door. "... ooh."

It appears as if the President committed suicide via hanging. It wasn't pretty, on the contrary, it was ugly! (See what I did thar?) Sergei sighed. "Well. I guess I'm President again!"

He sat down on the Presidential Chair(TM) and decided to give a speech via television because there was like a camera thing and... ah I'm lazy.

"Greetings citizens." Sergei started. "I just have heard that a meteor is going to hit our fair island. Do not panic, we are using our defenses, terrestrial and otherwise, to destroy it. Again, calm down... wait, what?" A women entered the office with a paper and gave it to Sergei. She also greeted her mother. "... errm, it says here that the missiles and giant lazer beans were deflected towards space using a magical force that the Author is too lazy to exlain... but, it won't be here until a week. Therefore I recommend that you RUN!!!"

Sergei jumped out of his chair and out of the room while boats were being prepared for the evacuation.

Indeed, it was the end! And lo military boats were loaded, while cars, tanks, and whatnot were left? And the planes? I'll think of something later. But alas, people were leaving the country by the millionsfold. Indeed, it was like OH S(BEEP) SON RUN!!!

...

"Don't look back!" Dogodogodogodogodogodogodogodogo. "Don't look back!"

What's wrong with Boston?

____________________________________________________________

Presidential Palace, Rose City

"Ah!!!" Sergei woke up from all the madness, his wife next to him sleeping. He continued shouting. "I had a dream where the island was being crushed by a giant meteor and then it was like BOOM and agh I WAS PRESIDENT."

His wife woke up from all his shouting. "... but you are President, you don't remember that Frederick committed suicide?"

Sergei paused. "... oh yeah. There must be a celebration! A grand celebration! With balloons! And candy! Oooh, and alcohol! And... pretty ribbons!"

His wife mumbled back to sleep. "... that's nice dear."

Sergei went immediately out of the room and started random people what to do. "You, make invitations. You, make everything pretty. You, provide security. And you... you just stand there... actually no, give me some vodka, yes, no, yes... definitely maybe... perhaps not, absolutely! GO!"

Sergei paused. "I'm going to take a walk... and things."

To: Everybody
From: The President

You are cordially invited to attend one of the largest parties of the year;
to celebrate the second Presidentializing of Sergei Ilyanov, a famous figure
in Rosian History and International History as well. There will be foods of all
kinds, alcohol, and... pants. Indeed, anyone and anybody is invited and we
wait for you to arrive. We shall be providing security so please, no weaponry,
oh we will also have a large kareoke set for anybody who wishes to sing
some Journey... I know I will.

Therefore, I would be quite honoured if anybody came, at all. I'll be waiting.

In Peace,

Sergei Ilyanov

P.S. Oh and, Happy Holidays! Though I prefer Merry Christmas...

Now let's see if people actually post in this darned thread!

(To put it simply, TIOR is back and I'm holding a party... and stuff. PLEASE POST ZOMG)

The Emperor plopped into his chair after a long day of golfing, and quickly opened up a web browser and checked his secure Palace email address. He scanned his inbox with care, noting what he had missed during the course of the day.

Spam... Spam... APOC declares war on the world... Spam... More spam... No thanks, my genitals are quite large enough... Spam... Ah... What do we have here?

He double clicked on the incoming message from TIOR, and read over it quickly.

To: Everybody
From: The President

You are cordially invited to attend one of the largest parties of the year;
to celebrate the second Presidentializing of Sergei Ilyanov, a famous figure
in Rosian History and International History as well. There will be foods of all
kinds, alcohol, and... pants. Indeed, anyone and anybody is invited and we
wait for you to arrive. We shall be providing security so please, no weaponry,
oh we will also have a large kareoke set for anybody who wishes to sing
some Journey... I know I will.

Therefore, I would be quite honoured if anybody came, at all. I'll be waiting.

In Peace,

Sergei Ilyanov

P.S. Oh and, Happy Holidays! Though I prefer Merry Christmas...

Ooooh... Pants. I could use some. Mine are getting awful tight, and...

At that moment, the button on his trousers popped off with enough force to send it flying through the open door and into the sitting room. After a few moments, the terrified scream of a secretary resonated throughout the Imperial Office, and soon enough a young woman was standing in the doorway, her thick-rimmed emo glasses shattered in one lens. In her right hand she held a button, and a dry look lay upon her gentle features.

"Sorry, Sarah. Won't let it happen again."
"No problem, sir.", she said, retreating back to her desk. The Emperor returned to his thoughts.

I can't personally go, though... Too much to do. I'll assign Louie to go... He needs a good party. He's been a little overworked lately.

He clicked the reply option, and his fingers began to dance wildly across the keyboard.

http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c381/crave22/Cravan/crestcopysmall.png
Imperial House of Craven

Greetings from the Libertarian Empire! It's with great pleasure that I am able to inform you that we will be sending representatives to your party in hopes of closer relations. I, however, am afraid I cannot personally attend. I will instead be sending our Director of Foreign Affairs, Louis McHenry and his wife Linda. They will be arriving within a day's time, along with a number of minor staff officials to mingle and make the party look more full if less people show up.

Signed,

Matthew Craven
Matthew Craven
Emperor of the Libertarian Empire

PS- wanna play sum bf2 lolz?

The fax machine in Sergei Ilyanov's office emitted a harsh mechanical wail and spat out a sheet of paper, before falling silent. It would remain to be seen if it would ever be the same, but for now the message was more important. It appeared to have originally been written on some sort of thick parchment, and was hand written using what appeared to be a quill pen.

And anyone in the international community could tell you who that meant....

Hail President Ilyanov!
It is good to see you once again at the helm of the great nation of the Island of Rose. I would be simply honored to attend this grand event, and will make arrangements for my arrival at once! My wife Violet will also be attending.

However, it is only the inconsiderate guest that brings nothing to a party he is invited to. Violet makes absolutely wonderful scones, and I'm sure she'd love to make a batch or two for this gathering. Unfortunately, I've not been blessed with her culinary skills, and would surely set boiling water aflame, and I will bring several fine bottles of wine. I hope that these will be suitable contributions to your splendid plans.

We will be arriving via Beech 2000 Starship, the flight and transponder details of which are attached.

Atal Amner
Atal Amner

P.S. A Merry Christmas to you as well.

Wait, it was signed twice? Yes indeed it was, for effect and to ensure there was no mistaking the author.

=======================================

The odd looking propeller plane landed gently on the runway. The Beech 2000 Starship quickly shed speed and turned off the strip, taxiing over to a marked spot on the seemingly endless tarmac. Finally, the engines shut down and the door opened, streaming light into the somewhat dim plane's interior. Violet and Atal strode out, looking about for their transport to wherever they were supposed to go.

The Secretary General yawned heavily, whilst scrolling monotonously through his inbox. He eventually came across an invitation, addressed too every individual who possessed a PC and an internet connection. General Yelter felt special.

Re: Party

...

Mr. Yelter froze, realizing that he did not have a keyboard connected. You seem, General Yelter was abrupt, and blunt in everything he did. As the manager of his Best Buys Geek Squad was explaining just how necessary a keyboard would be, too his new HP, he had simply dismissed these claims as High Treason, in which conspiring against the government, and the elected body, in which too overthrow the sovereign power by means of bloody coup. The man was promptly executed in the parking lot 10 minutes later, after a show trial in the Flat Screen LCD isle.

The General decided the next best course of action too take would be too acquire a keyboard. He motioned for his guards too follow him, too which 3 burly men followed him out the door, in his jammies and all.

Upon arriving too Best Buy, the General got out and proceeded too the keyboards.

"...Erm this one!"

"That is a labtop sir."

"Yes, take the keypad off and let us go!"

"erm- sir, you might as well buy the entire thing...It comes with a monitor."

Though it was too late, the General has already ripped the IBM in half, blissfully strolling about with the new keyboard. He set the device on the counter as the clerk stared at it.

The clerk spent a good few minutes examining the device, feeling across ever nook and cranny, examining the sharp copper wiring that protruded from the back of it. After a good ten minutes, the clerk scratched his chin, and began too speak.

"Uh its broke sir."

The General was far too into the article in STAR magazine, as too the love triangle between Dick Cheny, Barbara Bush, and Koffee Annan. He looked up calmly.

"Well then get me a new one!"

The clerk nodded slowly disappearing, then returning several minutes later. He set before the general a brand new, IBM labtop. The general smiled warmly.

"Thank you son."

He grasped the labtop, and proceeded too split it in half. The clerk felt for his chin again.

"Uhh...stop?"

The general looked up, his tongue on his upper lip, fixed in concentration.

"Its spose too have a monitor attached."

"Poppycock! Have this man bound and gaged and thrown down the deepest crevice you can find."

The guards promptly followed their commanders orders, harshly grabbing the clerk. The general took his keypad out the door, too which the alarm beeped.

"Sir, please can I see your receipt."

The general had not payed for the device, therefore could not comply.

"You threaten the authority and sovereignty of our great leadership?"

"Wha-?"

"Aha! A confession! Send him too state prison, where years of uncomfortable quarters and daily sodomy will straighten this heretic out!"

The remaining guards grabbed him as well. The general drove himself home that evening.

After 3 hours of attempting too connect the keypad too his computer, by means of connecting the jagged copper wires together, into the back of the modem (causing him too lose feeling in his left hand) the general prompt called in his guards.

"Stephen bring me my grenades!"

"In the palace sir?"

"MY GRENADES STEPHEN!"

"Sir, your under party order not too handle munitions of any sort..."

This, too no avail. The general proceeded too punch the monitor, shattering the flimsy glass.

"Ha! Modern technology? Defend yourself!"

*3 hours later*

The general lay in a pool pf blood from his wounded hands, and other bodily fluid.

"Stepehen!"

"Yes sir!"

"Bring me my carrier pigeon!"

The General rote his response on a small napkin.

Hellz ya! See yuh there!

-Rustov

The pigeon took of, amidst a frenzy of Flak and firestorm AA missiles, approaching its destination.

The things for the party were almost ready. It would be a Christmas themed affair, with large trees, stars, and... pants. The Villa still had the same design that it had decades ago. As you entered you would see a large double staircase with red carpetting and whatnot, with white tiles on the floor, it was one of those grand hall deal. It would also be where the main part of the party would take place. Indeed, it had everything. A large table with Rosian foods (aka things you could find in a Cuban party since I'm too lazy to invent foods) a small stage for kareoke (Don't Stop Belieeeeeeeevin'!), and, pants.

There's a point to all of this.

But for now, Sergei would start replying one by one.

To: Emperor Matthew Craven
From: President Sergei Ilyanov

Thank you for sending a foreign dignitary and we will be waiting for his
presence in Rose International Airport. Also Halo > You... n00b.

Sergei moved on to the next letter, it was from the nation of Rustov... it was short and concise. Meh, not worth a reply! But it was a nice post. Then he moved on to the next letter. And as soon as he was about to write a response, secretary!

"Mr. President." She said. "One of the guests of your party are waiting at the airport from errm... Craven?"

Sergei breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't have to write things! "Send for them!"

Rose International Airport, Rose City

A rather long big and black... (wait for it) limo (pun!) arrived. The driver and two soldiers armed with Rosian rifles of which I'm too lazy to link you to. The driver was errm... confused? by the large plane. Nevertheless, the limo driver did his job... even though he was like... that's like four times I've used ... make it five... screw you!

Anywho, the driver looked at the couple. "Are you..." He paused and took out a piece of paper. "Atal and Violet?"

(Thanks for the posts guys! And excuse the crappiness of this one, I was writing in a rush. Also I appreciate if future posters just show up at the front door :) )